“I…I need to talk.” Monica sounded shaken.

“Alright.” She was in trouble, clearly. “Where to, and should I bring my tools?”

“My place and…you won’t need them.”

That actually made it sound even worse, it made me suddenly and abruptly convinced something was horribly wrong.

Something she didn’t think I could do anything about. The thought scared me. “I’ll be right there.” I shot Mike an apologetic luck.
“Coincidence?” he said, wryly.

I didn’t think so. But I headed out. I knew where Monica lived, but I’d need to catch a bus to get there from Mike’s place. It was even further away from mine. I really needed that bike I kept talking about getting.

She lived on the top floor of a townhouse. It was a nice place – Monica made a fair amount of money. I knocked on the door.

“Come…come in.”

I stepped in. She’d been crying. She’d scrubbed the makeup from her face – she was still reasonably attractive without it, but that was not counting the tear stains.

I bit back a very Loki-esque quip about “who was he” and crossed the space between us. “Monica…”

“I…” She looked me in the eyes. “I’m sick.”

The weight in my stomach pulled me down next to her. “Sick?”

“Cancer.”
“What can they do?” I knew the answer before she spoke it, although part of me was already raging.

“Nothing. Can you…”

“I don’t know.” That was the honest answer. “Even Odin isn’t omnipotent. That’s not how it really works. But I might be able to ask a favor of Eir.”

She closed her eyes. “It’s alright if you can’t. I know…the only alternative to the gods being evil is that they can’t fix everything.”

Some gods were evil, I thought but didn’t say. But I didn’t sense anything that might resemble a curse.

I knew she wasn’t going to be healed. But I had to ask. “Or sometimes fixing one thing…”

Her eyes opened. “If fixing me would break something else I’m happy to be broken.”

“I’ll try.” I would, too. But that feeling in the depths of me told me it was a waste of time, an endeavor to make myself feel better. Nothing more.

“Just don’t blame yourself. It isn’t your fault.” Her lips quirked. “If you can’t do something to heal me, then you can dang well help me take my mind off it.”

I managed a weak smile. “That I can do.”